wear the sun
21+ âŞď¸ treat me x

#batman#dc comics#dc#bruce wayne#dick grayson#batfam#dc fanart#tim drake#batfamily



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wear the sun
21+ âŞď¸ treat me x

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so that footballer made a statement about the lollapalooza incident. nobody is going to acknowledge it because it means they have to get off the 'chappell roan is mean and evil' train but basically he went "whoopsie I acted before I could think and find out what actually happened. lets not talk about it anymore"
screenshot via pinkponyarchive on instagram
a collection of my "production notes" for true blu, as promised :-) below the cut youll find my thumbnails for each piece of chapter art, as well as some commentary
youll also notice that one of these doodles has sniper's eyebrow scar flipped, this is bc i drew it well before i actually cemented blu sniper's design ŕŤŽę° Ëśâ˘ ŕź â˘Ëśęąá âĄ
oh yeah and here's a video i had to make to help me visualize sniper's journey behind enemy lines in chapter 4 (made in gmod, so forgive the wacky posing)(who am i kidding, it's freakin gmod that's what youre here for)
Hey Hey! Guess who finished chapter 14?!
Shout out to @sinmelae028 for inspiring me with their beautiful fanart to actually sit down and finish this chapter!(I will include their latest masterpiece at the end of this chapter below!)
Y'all this little Alastor x fem reader can be so cute sometimes. Like I'm jealous of how cute they are. I know I wrote it, but still it's unfair.
AO3 LINK HERE, but the chapter text is below like always! Also if you have no idea what I'm talking about, BUT you want to?! Previous chapter links right here: (Or you could honestly just check this one out on its own if you wanna a little hazbin hotel fluff that takes place during one of Charlie's 'Sharing Cirlces', it can KINDA stand alone) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13
Chapter 14âyouâre here
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Anyways! On with the show and thanks for reading! CW/TW: uhhh mostly fluffy? some allusion to PTSD, some allusion to dishonesty, some allusion to capture, therapy terms
Chapter 14: Roses and Thorns
It is a decidedly stiff atmosphere in this little corner of the Hazbin hotel.Â
The room feels too large for the eight of us assembled. Likely, because itâs Charlieâs hope that this room will someday be filled with more Sinners looking for redemptionâŚÂ
The room has a circle of eight chairs at its center, with more folding chairs stacked in the corner. There are some hastily painted signs along the walls that contain a few different vaguely encouraging messages. The one to my left simply reads âDo Good!â.Â
At least everyone in this group is awake and aware.
Back in the asylum, on the rare occasion any of us âpatientsâ were actually allowed to interact in a group setting like this⌠many of us were consistently under the influence of such a medley of drugs, so much so, that it made it difficult to form a coherent thought. Let alone remain conscious for the durationâŚ
Though, I doubt Iâll have the same problem in this âsharing circleâ.Â
Not only does everyone in this little group seem to be aware and awake, thereâs still a lingering tension carrying over from breakfast.Â
Alastor and I are no longer transformed as we were, but I can still run my tongue over the small prick wounds my teeth made in my lower lip earlier when Iâd lost controlâŚ
Itâs just been so long since Iâve felt âŚanything. And now that Iâve found Alastor, itâs as if Iâm feeling everything, all at once.Â
I shift my gaze to the side, peering at my husband out of the corner of my eye.Â
Alastor is already watching me.Â
His posture is relaxed. His legs crossed casually, balancing his mug on one knee. But his claw-tipped fingers clink as he drums them repeatedly against the side of the mug. I frown.
Alastor hardly ever fidgets.
I narrow my eye in his direction and he responds only with a raise of his brows- his fingers still drumming. I glance around the circle.Â
Charlie has several binders open on her lap- pointing a few different pages out to Vaggie at her right, who is nodding along.Â
Niffty is out of her chair, darting around the circle, chasing after a deformed rat with a knife.
Pentious is seated next to Angel and is attempting to show him whatever the small gadget heâs been tinkering with actually does. Angel looks as though he might fall asleep at the demonstration.
Only Huskâs eyes are on Alastor and I, though, as our eyes meet- he drops his stare. I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if Iâve somehow only made things worse for him by interjecting on his behalf at breakfast. I flick my eye back to Alastor, who is still peering at me with raised brows, fingers still tapping. I sigh.
âYouâŚdonât have to stay Alastor.â I say, quietly so as to not draw attention from the others.
His eyes widen a fraction and heâs silent a moment, considering and contemplating my words before he speaks.
âDo you want me to leave, Mon Coeur?â He asks finally in an equally quiet murmur. My eye widens and I shake my head.
âOf course not! I justâŚI donât want you to feel you have to stay-â I start to protest, but he shakes his head at my words and interjects before I finish speaking.
âI shall stay, then.â He says with a finality before his grin widens a fraction and he adds in a slightly louder tone,
âBesides, you wouldnât have me leave now? After all the work Charlie here has done to get me in one of these rickety chairs, would you Dearest? Sheâs been trying to have me attend one of these little rings of nonsense for over a week now.â He says loud enough for the rest of the assembled staff and residents to hear. He snickers slightly as Charlieâs gaze shoots up from her notes to the two of us.
I scowl at him before my lips quirk up into a smirk of my own.Â
âI wouldnât dream of disrupting the Princessâs endeavor then. Not when I know first hand just how stubborn you can be.â I retort, crossing my legs as I lean back in my seat.
Alastor blinks and itâs the only motion he makes aside from the slightest sharpening of his smile.
âOh, Iâm the stubborn one?â He asks, uncrossing his legs as I cross mine. I shoot him a grin of my own and shrug.
âWhat else would you call your inability to compromise or admit when youâre wrong?â I ask in a light and teasing tone.Â
Alastorâs fluffy ears straighten, like heâs trying to make sure he heard me correctly. The corner of his mouth twitches, but his smile doesnât falter.
âI would call it being a loving husband, being as the thing you wish me to compromise on involves your safety, my Dear.â He drawls casually, though his eyes are narrowed as he adds,
âThough, I do believe âstubbornâ fits in regards to your unwillingness to accept my help.â He quips, taking a sip from his mug with a smug grin.
I gape at him, readying to reply, but Charlieâs voice cuts through our bickering and the other ambient chatter around the room.
âALRIGHTY! Whoâs ready to kick this thing off?! I thought today, we could start by going around and naming a âroseâ and a âthornâ about our weeks! Angel! Maybe you could go first since you said you wanted to share?â Charlie announces as she pivots to Angel who blinks up at her in confusion.
âHuh? Oh, yeah, right. Ummm, âa rose and a thornâ, thatâs like somethinâ good and somethinâ bad that happened this week?â He clarifies, drawing out the words to stall for some time.
Charlie nods, her smile unwavering as she gestures for Angel to go on. Angel smiles thinly before continuing.
âOkaaayyâŚumm, so I guess my rose would beeeeâŚoh! I got one! Taking you guys to the bondage club yesterday was worth it just to see the way Pen held that flogger!â Angel says with a chuckle while Vaggie drops her face into her palms on the other side of the circle. Pentious raises his brows quizzically.
âWhich one was the flogger, again?â He asks and Angel waggles his brows in Sir Pentiousâ direction.
âThe one with all the leathery tails, snake boy.â Angel says with a devilish grin as Charlie clears her throat loudly.
âOkay, Angel! Thatâs a âŚlovely rose! How about a thorn?â She prompts and Angel frowns, thinking a moment before replying.
âRight, yeah a thornâŚwell, weâre still not allowed to do drugs here, right?â Angel asks and my gaze widens slightly as I look to a deflated Charlie who nods.
âYes Angel, hard drugs are still a no-go. Remember how what we said? âA sober mind is primed for-â she starts to explain, but Angel waves a dismissive hand.
âYeah, thatâs my thorn. Cause I still think Iâd be plenty redeemable with some of my namesake to put a little pep in my step!â He retorts, crossing all of his arms and looking to Pentious on his left.
âYour turn, Slimyâ he says to Sir Pentious who grumbles.
âIâm not that slimyâŚâ he mutters before raising his many-eyed gaze to meet Charlieâs expectant one.
âFor my rose, I suppose it would be Ms. Vaggieâs exercise in trust yesterday!â He says, his grin widening to something genuine as Vaggie lifts her face from her hands, tentative hope in her gaze.
âYeah?â She asks and Pentious nods before continuing.
âOh, absolutely! One of the most hands-on battles Iâve had in Hell thus far! Especially since I didnât have my egg bois or war machines! An exceptional learning experience to be sure!â He says with an earnest-sounding enthusiasm that makes Vaggieâs lips quirk into a reluctant smile.
âAnd I suppose my thorn wasâŚattempting to spy on you all initially to curry favor with the almighty Veeâs. Your turn Niffty, Dear!â Pentious finishes, rushing his last words together in a mumbled admission. Alastor rolls his eyes at my side, his gaze darting to Charlie who is nodding sympathetically.Â
Hearing her name, Niffty jumps up into her vacant seat between Pentious and Husk. She grins wide.
âMy turn! Uh, my turn for⌠what are we doing again?â She asks, glancing around the circle curiously, as if sheâs just noticed everyone assembled here.Â
âSharing a rose and a thorn about your week so far at the hotel!â Charlie clarifies and Niffty blinks. Vaggie sighs before clarifying,
âSomething good thatâs happened and something bad thatâs happened this week Niffty.â Vaggie explains in a monotone, her typical resting look of stress returning. Nifftyâs eye widens and she nods.
âOhhhh, I can do that! Something good? Well, I think the best part was Sir bringing me here to clean all the nasty stuff! And it was nice seeing Sir and Pretty Lady find each other again, really romantic! The most romantic thing Iâve seen here since I killed the queen roachâs king upstairs!â She says, the words spilling out so fast itâs difficult to keep up.Â
She smiles my way though, when speaking about âSir and Pretty Ladyâ, so I assume thatâs how she refers to Alastor⌠come to think of it, her and Husk both seem to report to him. My brow furrows as I wonder if thatâs merely a staff hierarchy here within the hotel? Or something more?Â
And what does she mean he âbrought her hereâ? Before I can think to ask, Niffty continues.
âAnd something bad? Hmmm, well, I think the rats might be developing a resistance to my mace? So Iâm probably gonna have to go after emâ with a knifeâŚwhich reminds me!â She says before quickly jumping and flipping over the back of her chair.Â
She lands with a knife in hand, stabbed into the ground- a twitching rat trapped on her blade. Niffty giggles to herself.
âGotcha!â She says with a grin, holding up the still twitching rodent like a proper trophy. I donât know why, but the sight has me chuckling. Alastorâs grin widens a bit at the sight too. Even Husk looks amused before Charlie reminds him itâs currently his turn to share.
âHow about you Husk? Got a rose and a thorn you mind sharing with the group?â She asks, still smiling, eager, and seemingly unpreturbed by the fact Niffty is conducting an extermination alongside her sharing circle.Â
Huskâs feathered brows lower as Charlie calls on him. His gaze flicks towards Alastor and I glance sidelong at my husband just in time to catch him give Husk an almost imperceptible nod, to which Husk sighs loudly in response. I arch a brow at the exchange, but remain quiet and return my attention to Husk as he speaks at my other side.
âI guess so⌠Uh, well I guess my thorn is still losing the whole damn pot I was about to win before I got uhâŚrelocated here.â He says with a sidelong glare in Alastorâs direction before continuing.
âAnd I guess a rose would beâŚwell, I guess the free booze is nice?â He offers with a shrug of his fuzzy shoulders. Charlie nods along and she scribbles on one of her many pads and Husk looks to me with a half a smirk.
âLooks like youâre up, MissusâŚwhat was that last name you used earlier? Heartfelt?â He asks with a knowing grin and a smirk in Alastorâs direction as well. Alastor bristles at my side as his static spikes and I have the distinct impression that, not even Husk- who seems to address Alastor with the most familiarity- yet, even he doesnât appear to have known mine and Alastorâs last name prior to my outburst.
I swallow a lump in my throat, cutting my gaze to Alastor at my other side. Heâs glaring at Husker like theyâre having a silent argument.Â
This man and his secretsâŚÂ
He softens his stare, though, as he catches me looking and simply gestures with a slight incline of his head for me to go on and share my rose and thorn with the group.
I clear my throat, suddenly wishing Iâd focused more on thinking of something to say before everyoneâs eyes were on me. But I suppose my rose is an obvious oneâŚ
âWell, Iâm quite sure my rose for the week is finding Alastor after looking for him for so longâŚâ I begin, glancing sidelong and smiling softly and the mild surprise on Alastorâs features at my words. I look towards Charlie and find her eyes tearing up at the admission and clear my throat again.
â...And for a thorn? IâŚâ I pause, not wanting to give up yet another secret that might agitate AlastorâŚbut I donât want to lie, or be rude either? Iâm struggling to think of something neutral, or something that might be a bit of a givenâŚbut then it hits me. A genuine, needling, little thorn that I hadnât realized was bothering me until given the chance to reflect.
â...I suppose my thorn would be, Iâve missed my viola and my saxophone while being here. I havenât felt inspired to play in some time, but I find myself suddenly wishing they were hereâŚâ I admit softly with a glance to Charlie for her approval that this will suffice for the purposes of her exercise.Â
Charlie is grinning back at me with her usual enthusiasm and then some. She scribbles something on the pad in front of her before asking,
âI didnât realize you played! Thatâs such an interesting combo of instruments! Do you play any others? Cause we have the piano in the lobby! Maybe we could do some kind of musical therapy sometime! Vaggie, do you think we could get instruments?â She asks turning to Vaggie who smiles lopsidedly at the Princessâ excitement.
âI donât see why not.â Vaggie offers with a shrug of her shoulders and a half a smile in my direction. Charlie beams at her partner, scribbling another note down on her pad before returning her focus to the circle. To Alastor at my side.
I look to my husband as well, only to find him smiling at me with such love in his eyes⌠and for some unfathomable reason, the sight makes my cheeks flush. He tilts his head at the reaction and without looking to the rest of the group he says,
âYou are my rose as well, My Dear. In every way.â He says, static and love wrapped around every syllable. Iâm vaguely aware of Angelâs jaw dropping in shock, Charlieâs small squeal, and Nifftyâs maniacle giggle. But itâs all background noise in comparison to his words.
Alastor has never been one for public displays of affection. An occasional kiss on the cheek or his hand in mine was as close as we got in public off the dance floor. Anything more and heâd whisk me away to some shadowy corner, slide a folded love note my way, or lean in to whisper something only I could hearâŚ
But those words just now? He said as clearly and confidently as he spoke on our wedding day. My heart melts as I press my lips together in quiet glee at his admission.Â
âWell thatâs⌠adorable. Almost makes me not wanna ask for your thorn, Al.â Vaggie says with a smug smirk directed at Alastor. His static screeches briefly, as if heâs just remembered her at his other side. He flicks his gaze to Vaggie, eyes narrowing slightly, but his smile and voice are unfaltereingly cheerful.
âYou shouldnât! My âthornâ was going to be your reckless endangerment of my wife-â he says, static cracking as his eyes go dark briefly, but he pauses to glance my way once more before continuing,
â-But, I suppose, seeing as she rather enjoyed your little escapadeâŚperhaps we might turn that âthornâ into a bud?â He offers and I arch a brow at the playfulness in his tone. Vaggie eyes him skeptically.
âWhat kinda âbudâ?â She asks begrudgingly and Alastor grins.
âCharlie proposed musical therapy, an excellent idea by the way Charlie, Dear-â he says, tilting is head in deference to Charlie as she beams at him as he continues,
âSo, Iâd like to propose an activity as well! Self-defence training, specifically. Perhaps you might instruct! Seeing as you possess a certain skill with that spear of yours?â He asks, grinning at Vaggie as she narrows her eye in response.Â
However, after a moment of consideration, she relents with a shrug of her shoulders.
âActually, not a bad idea. We could focus on combat-avoidant blows, how to take down an opponent larger than you, descalation tactics⌠good idea Alastor.â She aquiesces and turns to Charlie who is already writing everything down. Vaggie grins at her before prodding at her side.Â
âYou wanna introduce the next segment? Or should I?â She offers and Charlieâs eyes shoot up, hope and joy shining bright across her every feature.Â
âOh! Would you mind, Vaggie? I just wanna make sure Iâm getting all this down!â She asks and Vaggie chuckles as she nods. She slides a few papers out from Charlieâs stack of binders and walks around the circle, handing us each one.
âSo, these are uh-â She glances down at the copy in her hand, reading the title aloud.
â-âEffective Communication Reflectionâ worksheets. So, uh, review the front side. Cause it outlines the techniques. Then you guys are gonna have to buddy up for the back side cause I only got three pens.â She says, reaching for some ink pens out of her pocket, she hands one to me.Â
âYou two love birds can be a pair. Husk and Nifty, and then Angel and Sir Pentious.â She says, handing the remaining two pens to Husk and Pentious. She nods looking around the group a moment before clearing her throat.
âSo yeah! Uh, get to it and let us know if you have questions, I guess.â She says before taking her seat alongside Charlie again.
I look to the paper sheâs handed us. The title of the document reads just as she said. The techniques are listed in bullet points beneath with brief explanations for each. I scan them each quickly, turnging the paper over in my hands where there are a few questions space below to write an answer to each.Â
I look to Alastor, whoâs sheet sits untouched in his lap. Though, he is watching me read mine with some amusement. I smirk back at him.
âAny thoughts on question number one?â I ask lightly and he arches a brow.
âI donât believe Iâve gotten there yet, Dearest. Read it aloud for me, wonât you?â He asks and I press my lips together at the familiar phrase. He used to have me do the same with his morning paper, with the books I read, even with song lyrics sometimes.
It always made me feel special I suppose. That this man who everyone clamored around their radioâs to hear his voice, only every wanted to hear mine. So I clear my throat dramatically before reading the first question.
ââQuestion one: Which of the above techniques is most challenging to implement, and why?ââ I read aloud, glancing up from the paper to find him grinning at me like Iâve told the funniest joke heâs heard. I try and fail to stifle the small chuckle that escapes me.
âWhat is so funny?â I ask, though, Iâm also chuckling myself. Alastor grins back at me and shakes his head.
âNothing at all, My Dear. I simply never tire of hearing your voice, even when the words make little to no sense.â He offers and I roll my eye at him.
âThey might make sense if you read your sheet.â I offer teasingly and his grin widens.
âPerhaps, but then Iâd miss the pleasure of hearing your lovely voice, Mon Coeur.â He says smoothly and I shake my head at his flirtatious tone, returning my attention to the paper in my hands.Â
âThe techniques it lists are âmaintaining eye-contactâ, âmaintaining appropriate body languageâ, âone speaker at a timeâ, âuse of personal pronounsâ, âseeking to understand before being understoodâ, âappropriate languageâ, âopen-ended questionsâ, and âhonestyââ...â I say, rattling off the bullet pointed list and skipping the definitions under each. I slide my gaze back to Alastorâs.
âSo which of those do you find most difficult to implement?â I ask, already knowing from just the look on his face that he isnât the least bit concerned with answering the question. He tilts his head to the side in an expression of mock-concentration.
âHard to say, so many of the little rules seem awfully concerned with propriety, donât they?â He asks teasingly and I roll my eye at him, chuckling softly.
âLike you arenât? Iâve heard you tear a manâs soul to shreds while asking he maintain a smile. Literally.â I quip, arching a brow.
Alastorâs eyes widen in recognition and recollection. His gaze sombers a bit as he tilts his head once again, but in earnest interest this time.
âYou have?â He asks softly, his brows drawing together as he likely does the math in his head, realization dawning on his face as he recalls the date of that particular broadcast and where I was when I heard it. I drop his gaze and begin scribbling an answer to the first question, nodding.
âYes. Iâve heard all your broadcasts. They sell recordings of them now tooâŚâ I murmur, trying and failing not to recall that when I first heard that particular broadcast I was in no position to smile either⌠I clear my throat.
âI put âopen-ended questionsâ for the first answer. Ready for the second question?â I ask, lifting my gaze to his again. His expression is unreadable for a moment, still and quiet. After a moment, though, he asks for me to read the next question aloud. I oblige him.
ââQuestion two: Which of the above techniques do you feel you personally should work on, and why?ââ I read aloud and frown down at the paper. Alastor rolls his eyes at the question.
âPresumably the most difficult one mentioned in the first question?â He asks in a bored sounding tone. I arch a brow.
âSo youâd say you think you need to work on open-ended questions?â I ask, a light note of teasing entering my tone. Alastor leans forward, elbows on his knees as he twists in his chair to face me, still taller than me by a mile even hunched over.
âDo you think I do, Ma Cher?â He asks, his eyes study me with an intense focus that makes my heart skip a beat, but I try to keep my tone teasing as I nod.
âOh, absolutely you do.â I say quickly and his smile widens as he raises his brows.
âDo I, now? And why is that?â He asks, amusement dripping from every word.
âBecause, you practically invented leading questions, which is the opposite of the technique listed here,â I say, pointing the the technique âopen-ended questionsâ on the page. Alastor chuckles and shrugs.
âAnd whatâs so wrong with a leading question? It gets you to the point all the same, doesnât it?â He drawls, leaning back in his chair like heâs prepared to debate the topic. I arch a brow a lift the sheet, clearing my throat dramatically before reading.
âWell, it says here, âopen-ended questions allow the other person to open up and better explain their perspective when communicatingâ.â I say as I read from the front side of the sheet. Alastor huffs.
âDarling, I always allow for an explanation of oneâs perspective! Iâm a radio host after all! It just so happens most peopleâs perspectives arenât worth the time it would take to wait for them to get there on their own!â He says triumphantly, as if heâs somehow won therapy. I chuckle in response.
âYes, I suppose that would be your perspectiveâŚâ I mumble and Alastorâs ears twitch. He leans in again, teasingly close as he utters the single word,
âElaborate.â
I swallow hard, but nod as I do so.
âWell, Alastor, dear, you have a tendency to...engineer a conversationâŚâ I offer and he cocks his head to side in a silent demand for me to continue.
âMeaning⌠well, I suppose you like a certain degree of control over the outcome of the conversation. You like to steer it, via leading questions, to achieve your own desired outcome. Which is, more often than not, that you are right and otherâs perspectives werenât worth your time in the first place.â I finish, watching his expression carefully as I speak.
He stares at me a momentâŚand then another. For a second, I think I might have actually rendered my ever-boisterous husband speechless before he mutters,
âAnd to think, I thought you didnât wish to attend therapy todayâŚâ He grumbles and I canât help but giggle at his petulance. His head turns at the sound, and all signs of his peevishness vanish as he looks at me.Â
Heâs always looked at me like that when I laughâŚlike itâs his favorite sound. I smile at the thought, but before I can comment on it, Vaggie claps her hands for the groupâs attention.
âOkay you guys, uh give me your papers and Iâll look them over. The rest of the sharing circle is art focused though, so keep your pens. Youâre gonna take turns with a blank piece of paper and try to make a cohesive picture together. Youâll start and stop on my signal.â She instructs as she hands each of us pairs a new blank piece of paper and collects the old ones.
I offer the pen to Alastor, who raises his brows at me.
âTrusting me to make the initial mark, My Dear?â He asks, eyes dancing with mischief and I grin back at him.
âOnly you feel up to the challengeâŚâ I say lightly. He grins and takes the pen, twirling it between his claw-tipped fingers with a flourish, his hand poised above the paper as Vaggie calls out for the first group to begin.
I watch in fascination as Alastor traces a long, wavy line across the center of the page, pressing his lips together in quiet concentration. Just as quickly, he adds two smaller vertical lines atop the wavy line before he abandons it to draw some smaller squares and rectangles beneath it...Â
I smile in quiet adoration as I watch his bold strokes of the pen across the page. After a few minutes Vaggie calls for us to switch. Alastor offers me the pen, and I take it, flipping the paper so I can see it from his perspective.
âI was going for-â He starts, but Vaggie cuts him off with a barked,
âNo explaining! Just try to go off what your partner put on the page, itâs all about non-verbal communication!â She says and Alastor glares in her direction, static crackling. I chuckle softly and place a gentle hand on his arm. When he looks to me, I place a finger to my nose, just as he used to whenever we would say the same thing at the same time in life. He gives me a genuine grin as Vaggie calls for us to start again.
I return to the wavy line at the center of the page, adding in some of Encreâs features as Iâm fairly sure the wavy line is meant to be the dragonâs long winding form. To the two vertical lines, I assume are meant to be us, I add some small details to the tiny figure that represents Alastor. Sketching his side, profile as best I can in the limited time, adding his ears and antlers.Â
Iâve only managed to outline my own form before Vaggie calls time again. I sigh and look up to hand Alastor the pen, only to find him staring at me with a look ofâŚI canât quite place the expression on his face. Love, certainly. But also something like⌠pride? Or wonder maybe?
He takes the pen from my hand, wordlessly as Vaggie instructed and begins again as Vaggie calls out. Alastorâs strokes now are focused on the squares and rectangles beneath. He scrawls the names of a few buildings in the entertainment district that we flew over last night, fleshing out the drawingâs background until I can clearly picture where we were once more.
Vaggie calls time again and he hands the pen to me once more. Thereâs a small zing of static electricity as our fingers meet and I bite my lower lip as I take the pen from him once more. I add in a few of the buildings he hadnât gotten to yet before turning my attention to the sky.
There are no stars in the skies of HellâŚbut I add some anyways. Penning in constellations I remember we used to be able to see out on the Levee late at nightâŚ
Vaggie calls time again. This time she clarifies this is the last round so we should add any finishing touches this go around. I hand Alastor the pen, but he takes my hand. Holding it gently a moment before releasing all but my index finger. I look up to meet his warm smile.
âMay I?â he mouths with a slight smirk. I nod in understanding and allow that deep blue ink of my skin to pool at the tip of my finger.
 He abandons the pen and carefully, he begins to color in the half finished figure that represents me, then adds that same color to Encre as well. Heâs just finished filling in her tail when Vaggie calls time again and announces the final bout for the second participants.
I survey the image and use the ink of my skin as well to add a few more constellations, a few more shining lights in the pentagram below. Until the whole page feels peppered with the deep blue ink of my skin.
When Vaggie calls for us all to place our pens down. I set the paper between us with a grin.
Itâs a bit abstract, unfinished in places too. YetâŚitâs one of the most beautiful things I think Iâve ever seen. Alastor catches my unchecked smile and grins. As Vaggie concludes the exercise and declares the sharing circle over for today, Alastor leans in close.
âIâve missed watching you paint since the day I lost youâŚâ He murmurs against the shell of my ear and I feel my cheeks warm as I twist to face him and my nose brushes his.
âYou mean since the day I lost you?â I quip, arching a brow and trying to ignore the way his proximity makes my entire body stand straighter, poised with anticipation for his next move, his next touch, even the next smirk that graces his lips as he arches a playful brow and asks,
âNow whoâs asking the leading questions?â Â
To Be Continued...
Again, a huge thank you to @sinmelae028 for this gorgeous fanart, truly motivated me to sit down and write the whole back half of this chapter in a single afternoon!
TAG LIST: (Ask and you shall be added)
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i love free will

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Doing the thing where I look at parts of myself and try to psychoanalyse them to make sense if it
BUT ANYWAY I think the reason I love chess husbands so much, besides the fact that ghosts is very special to me and literally came into my life at the best possible moment, is because they remind me that love can be easy; you can exist in a simple orbit without the fear of it crashing or colliding and its perpetual state of âeasinessâ doesnât have to allude to failure or too good to be true. Partnership doesnât have to be sappy and domestic if you donât want it to be. This sort-of love is beautiful and not terrifying.
Iâve never been great at love, but when I look at them it makes me less afraid to fall in it; if I had what they had⌠yeah ⌠and maybe I see myself in the unorthodox, the absurdity and the tangled feelings but mostly I gravitate towards the comfort of finding someone who understands you and who makes a dark place feel like home.
I love how wise and gentle Robin can be and I love Julianâs wit and curiosity. They can exist as independents safe in the knowledge that when their day of activity is done they can find one another at the chess table, or in bed, or just outside looking at the stars. The love they have for each other is an electric fuzz sort-of perpetual buzz that probably gets louder in times of intimacy but mostly just exists as this background static, white noise comfort; it makes existentialism feel less daunting and âsoulmateâ feel less clichĂŠ as opposed to a genuine accuracy. They werenât meant to meet each other, not in literally ten thousand years, but that chance, that million-odd brush of fate brought them together and they stay together not from fear (although both are scared, but they are scared together) but by choice. Both of them are inevitably fucked-up but they donât feel so out of control when one is with the other. They bring out the best and worst in each other but ultimately exist having known now what itâs like to belong somewhere, truly, permanently, and not want to leave. Their love is proof itâs not where you come from but who you are underneath. In death, theyâve found a reason to live <3
Chess husbands, man, wuhhhâŚ.
Possible Bridgerton spoilers
Good Morning Gentle Readers, you are here today with yours in name and pen, Lady Whistledown. We're going to be talking about the marriage game this season and more specifically about the Birdgerton team coached by Lady Bridgerton.
Fun fact is that Violet is actually the mother of her team's players as well as their coach, it's really lovely to see those family bonds out on the field.
But, what's of special interest to us here in the audience is the bewildering Bridgerton Boy Strategy. For those of you who don't know, for the past three seasons the Bridgerton men have all employed a strategy of low grade patheticness, yearning and intermittent begging. Now, our experts say that this is nonsense, but we have the insider scoop that it is Lady Bridgerton is the key to the whole play, as at the opportune moment she will swoop in and coach her players to pull out a ring.
This has an effect that scientists are calling "Gap Moe", but as far as we can understand from the ballroom, it just means that the woman being proposed to puts him out of her misery, having had to suffer a whole social season of on-and-off simpering quivering lips.
We've also been keeping up to date on Lady Bridgeton's best players from last season, the now Francesca Kilmartin and the boy one who married Penelope. The Kilmartin couple has been a delight to see in their retirement from the sport, but unfortunately they recieved a major upset in the middle of the season when Lord Kilmartin recieved a career (etc.) ending injury (...)
We here in the ballroom are hoping to see Francesca become a Kilmartin sister-kisser, partially for the enjoyment of our long suffering queer audience, but also partially because Francesca only recently learned to 'Get-Some' and it would be a shame to waste the chemistry between them.
Some other stuff happened with Violet Bridgertons biggest player this season, one of her sons with facial hair, and while we still don't have all the details, it seems a woman will be happier with him than without, so it seems worthwhile that he is leavig bachelorhood.
The only other player of note is Eloise Bridgerton. She has spent the past few seasons as one of the teams most contentious players, and the least interested in success at the marriage markets. A significant factor in the debates about Eloise continuing to sit on the bench is that she seems incapable of being a team player. That seems to have been remedied by her mentor relationship with her younger sister, who is in training for her debut to the social spheres, as Eloise put on a different perspective hat to assist her.
That's all for this column, but remember to check in here for all your social sport news, here at Lady Whistledown
I am beginning to suspect that my success in communicating with the socially awkward, highly skilled, specialist technology team members is not just down to "having lots of experience talking to my dad"